My Dark Highlander

by Badger, Nancy Lee

  Her thoughts returned to Gavin. She kicked Balfour’s sides, and the horse trotted down the narrow trail. A few beams of morning light penetrated the crown of gold, red, and yellow leaves, and she regretted that within a month, every leaf would turn brown and drop from the trees. Some dried leaves littered the trail, and she prayed the older Sinclair wasn’t near enough to hear them crunch beneath her horse’s hooves.

  Rounding a corner, Gavin and Falcon blocked their path. When she reined in Balfour, Jaden-Tog leaned to the side, and peeked around Jenny.

  Gavin growled. “Ye found a companion, I see.”

  “He’s hurt. He fought against your father, so I could escape.”

  “Aye. Ye were nowhere to be found, young laird,” Jaden-Tog added, his tone low and accusatory.

  Gavin’s aura morphed into a brilliant violet, like that of a humble man filled more with compassion, or gratitude, than anger. It was a much better look on him.

  “I was…never ye mind. If ye shall assist me, we shall capture my sire, and return him to Tulac Castle. Will ye help us?”

  Jenny saw the hope in his eyes tinged with envy. Did he think the brownie was enjoying riding so close to her? “He needs medical help, so let’s find Dorcas, before you make any plans to kidnap anyone.”

  “Kidnap? Ye mean abduct, or capture, aye?”

  “Aye,” she mimicked. “Let’s go.”

  ***

  The woman made Gavin wish to forget all that had happened between them, and his sire, and lose his selfish desires in the bottom of a tankard of ale. “Ye drive me to drink, lass. If ye follow me, we shall return to the Highland games, and seek out the witch.”

  The brownie chuckled. “Aye, she creates powerful potions, besides those that aid the sick and injured. I would watch yer step around her.”

  “She wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

  Gavin and Jaden-tog snickered, and she sat straighter in the saddle. He did not wish to shatter her notion about the old woman, but Dorcas Swann was a powerful witch, and had taken down an evil sorcerer that had threatened several of Jenny’s friends. If she had not heard the tales, he could enlighten her, or simply let her think good thoughts about her.

  “I have to tell you something, and you’re not going to like it,” Jenny said.

  Gavin glared at her, hoping she did not plan to continue to fight for the old woman’s reputation.

  “It’s about something your father said.”

  Thoughts of his sire’s curses turned his stomach. “Pray, tell me more. ‘Tis a perfect day for revelations.”

  “He said if you don’t side with him, he’s heading back in time to the harvest festival. He plans to kill everyone. He specifically mentioned the Mackenzies and the Keiths.”

  Gavin’s heart thudded in his chest, and his palm itched to grab his sword and kill the old man. “How dare he threaten me with the lives of innocent people? We must hurry if we are to capture him. First, we must assume Rae is with Dorcas, unless he took that pretty woman home.”

  “Wynda? No way! If he took her to my building, they would have found two more bodies, right?”

  Gavin rubbed his chin. “True, but he might have followed her to her home.”

  “I wouldn’t blame him if he did. She’d be crazy not to get a taste of him. He’s one gorgeous farm boy. Reminds me of a young Clark Kent.”

  “Who?” Jaden-Tog asked.

  “Superman’s corn-fed alter-ego? Never mind. We have lots to do.”

  As Gavin stroked the stubble covering his chin, and yearned for a bath, his two companions grew quiet. Were they whispering? He mumbled a short spell to improve his listening skills.

  “Will you return to Tulac Castle with Gavin?” Jenny asked the brownie, her voice low and sultry.

  Gavin stirred, and Falcon skidded sideways. The brownie looked his way, but he locked his gaze on the blue sky over their heads, as if gauging the weather for the next battle.

  “Aye, lass, but I must ask…will ye?” Jaden-Tog’s eyebrows wiggled.

  Gavin waited anxiously for Jenny to answer. His powers faded as his strength weakened. He was hungry, thirsty, and a bit battered.

  “I don't see why I should. There's nothing there for me.”

  Gavin’s shoulders slumped, and he swallowed the lump in his throat. His chest constricted, as if stabbed in the heart. She was right. He had treated her like an obligation, while trying to keep her safe from his father, and anyone the bastard might have sent to hurt him by using her.

  Leaving her behind makes perfect sense.

  This was her life. This place in time was where she worked, and where her friends lived. She was now homeless, and his own sire was the cause. Gavin would make it up to her, somehow. He might take her back with him, if she would go. But, why should she? He had kissed her, and they had shared intimacy, but she had never professed her love. Neither had he.

  What was love? Poets and songwriters talked of sunshine and flowers, lovemaking under the stars, of happy days, and growing old together. Gavin shook his head. He was dark and filled with bitter rage.

  “If I am required to kill my father to save my people, so be it.”

  When Falcon’s hooves clopped on the hard surface of a road, Gavin turned him in the direction of the Highland games site. They must meet up with Rae and Dorcas Swann, to warn them that his sire was on the loose in this time, and seeking revenge. If the bastard had threatened to murder people at the harvest festival back home, he had to be immediately stopped.

  A cool breeze lifted the hair from his neck, and his stomach growled. A meat pie or bridie would taste good. Hunger was a concept he had never lived with. As the son of a tyrant, who ruled with an iron fist, and stole from wealthier clans, his family never went hungry. But, were they happy?

  His brother did not seem to think so. Niall had taken his own men, and left to seek his future elsewhere. When their sire died, or was dethroned, Gavin assumed that Niall would return to take up the title of chieftain.

  Instead, the responsibility had fallen to Gavin.

  He itched to return to his own time, and search for his brother. Niall was alive! He could feel it in his gut. He might be hurt, or lost his memory, but he had not drowned. Gavin could not explain why he felt this way, but since he did, he must return and search for Niall. Unless Jenny agreed to return with him, he would have to leave her here. It made sense, did it not?

  Then why do I feel like my heart is breaking?

  ***

  Jenny inhaled the glorious, cool mountain air, and was glad they rode their horses on the shaded edge of the road. The clop of Balfour's hooves on the hard pavement was music to her ears. Pavement meant civilization. Finding and explaining all that had happened, to Rae and Dorcas, was a prudent plan. Between the five of them, they ought to be smart enough to figure out how to capture the older Sinclair, unless he had already returned to the past.

  If he was still lurking nearby, they could set a trap, and see if he shows up. “They could use me as bait.”

  “Bait? Ye no’ be fish food, but if they mean to dangle ye, in order to lure the old Sinclair, ‘tis a verra’ bad idea. He be a killer, and unless he is parted from his evil potions, we will no’ be able to capture the man.”

  “So, you're saying we need to steal his potions, first? Sounds like a job for a thief. Do you know any?” she asked the brownie, as they entered the festival grounds.

  Jaden-Tog jumped down, and Jenny slipped out of the saddle. The brownie grabbed the reins, while she smoothed what she could of her wrinkled gown. Her loose hair brushed her shoulders, and she wished she had time to wash her face. Gavin had dismounted several yards away. They followed Gavin and Falcon until they all reached the tent of Dorcas Swann.

  Jaden-Tog whispered his answer. “Aye. As a matter of fact, I am quite good at stealing things.”

  Jenny chuckled, recalling that Izzy had told her how a brownie had stolen her strongbox. He had taken the money she’d earned after working all day in Dorcas’ tent, plus
some very pretty gemstones, that she'd placed in the box for safekeeping.

  Was Jaden-Tog the same brownie? “Do you happen to have the stones someone borrowed from Izzy?”

  “As a matter of fact I do.” He reached into his tiny pocket and pulled out several colored stones.

  “May I have them? I might be able to use them, to help us capture Sinclair.” Jenny had no idea where that thought came from. Certain minerals and gemstones contained special properties. A trained person, not just a witch, could read them. They could be used to one’s advantage, just as the evil Sinclair had used magical potions and herbs, in his attacks.

  She gazed down at a round piece of rich, red garnet and the cloudy brilliance of a small hunk of moonstone. How could she use the moonstone’s energies that supposedly aligned with the Goddess? The garnet was more her style. Izzy had told her it could aid in raising and directing the flow of powerful energy.

  These could work.

  When they reached Dorcas' vendor tent, all was quiet. Had she already gone home, wherever home was, in this time? It was still early in the day, but the tent flaps were shut. Many visitors shopped at various nearby tents.

  Not a good sign.

  Gavin tied his horse to the back of a vendor’s cart, and Jaden-Tog followed suit. She asked the brownie to watch the horses, while she hurried to help Gavin figure out what was going on inside Dorcas Swann's tent.

  A closed sign hung over the main flap. He slipped inside the flap, into the dark space. The lamps hanging from the center pole were unlit.

  “Wish I’d brought a flashlight,” she whispered.

  Gavin turned toward her, but said nothing.

  He probably wonders what the word means. “Something like your little conjured light.”

  “I dare not resort to magic in a tent full of magical herbs and potions. Can ye use yer aura-reading ability and see if anyone is inside?”

  She glared in the direction of what she assumed was Gavin's head. How did he know about her ability?

  “ ‘Tis a discussion for another time, but Dorcas is free with the secrets of others.”

  “I usually need to see a person, in order to read their aura.” His request was a challenge. She stumbled against a table, and the clink of potion bottles made her stand still, and close her eyes.

  Silly, I can’t see anything, anyway.

  Relaxing both her body and mind, she opened her senses. Gavin’s aura jumped out at her, as brilliant as a solar flare, and iridescent pink with sexual desire. The glow widened, and the hot zap of desire flew down her spine, to her womb. Swallowing, she refocused her approach.

  “No time for sex,” she whispered.

  “I didn't know ye were offering.” He chuckled.

  Gavin had one thing on his mind today, but he was a warrior, and he was going to protect her, even with a hard-on.

  She shoved aside the image of his hand wrapped around the base of his throbbing member, as he sat on a hay bale.

  Talk about erotic.

  “Less talk, more action,” he whispered.

  Another modern saying, he’d picked up. A laugh bubbled up, but she raised her hands in front of her, and spread her fingers. Searching for any other aura in the tent’s main room, she saw nothing beside Gavin, and a strange glow. It emanated from behind the curtain Dorcas had hung to separate the main sales area from her bedchamber.

  “There’s something back there. Kind of hard to tell, with the curtain in the way.”

  The whisper of a dagger slipping from its sheath, was followed by fabric ripping. Had he sliced through the curtain? A nearly black aura surrounded a limp form, resting on a small cot. Jenny was filled with dread.

  “I think its Dorcas. Let me check.” Jenny shuffled carefully through the dark to the bedside table, and lit a small candle. It flickered to life. Dorcas lay above the blankets, shivering, with her eyes closed. “She doesn’t look too good. Her aura is no longer amber.”

  The old woman’s body jerked, and her mouth opened in a silent scream. She was fully clothed, and unconscious.

  “What ‘tis wrong with her?” Gavin asked.

  “I have no idea. This is your nightmare, remember?”

  “Who goes there?’

  Gavin shoved Jenny behind him, and raised his dirk. Rae strode from the darkness, with his own weapon aimed at Gavin's heart. The dim light flickered over his features, which were as dark and fearsome as Gavin’s. Jenny pushed away from Gavin’s shadow, and into the open.

  “I found Dorcas near death, but left to fetch water. I saw the open flap.” Rae’s mouth softened into a toothy smile, and he stepped closer to Jenny. “Lass, are ye well?”

  Gavin stepped between them. “I be fine, she be fine, and the brownie be somewhat fine. We found the witch, while looking for ye. I have slated my father for death, unless we can capture him, and return him home. His powers continue to grow while we stand here, threatening each other.”

  Rae lowered his weapon. “I will stay here, while you search for him. Dorcas took ill late last night. I worry that she was poisoned.”

  “Poisoned?” Jenny glanced toward the old woman. “Who would poison such a wonderful, caring person?”

  “I have been checking on her while…”

  “While visiting Wynda?” Jenny wanted to laugh, but the old woman had taken ill, and Rae’s mind was elsewhere. How could they fight the evil Sinclair?

  Aye,” Rae said, smiling, “but she ‘tis selling her meat pies all day, so I be here.”

  Jenny’s stomach growled at the mention of food. She’d skipped breakfast, in order to save her own life. Staring at the small gray-haired form on the bed, jerking in obvious pain, she concentrated on the aura surrounding Dorcas. Not good. “Wait here.”

  Clutching the candle in her trembling fingers, she hurried back into the shop. She lit the lanterns above the table filled with bottled potions and bagged herbs. Clicking off properties of each item, using all she had learned from Dorcas, Izzy, and Skye, she found what she hoped would work, and pulled Dorcas’ pitcher of red wine from its hiding spot. Rae had followed her.

  “Ye be giving her wine?” Rae asked.

  “Quiet. Let me work.” While Rae grunted, then returned to the tiny bedchamber, Jenny poured some wine into a small ceramic mug, then grabbed a long, thin, mixing spurtle crafted of local maple. She stirred the powder into the wine with the carved stick, then hurried back to Dorcas. The men whispered together, but quieted when she placed a hand on Rae’s arm, and set the mug on the nightstand. “This might help, if we can get her to sip it.”

  Rae tilted Dorcas’ head up off the pillow. The old woman’s eyes fluttered, and she mumbled something in Gaelic. Rae looked at Jenny.

  “Hurry lass, she is fading.”

  Jenny lifted the mug to Dorcas’ lips. “Drink. This should help.”

  Dorcas swallowed several mouthfuls, then Rae laid her head on the pillow. “Her color looks better, and she is breathing deeper. What did ye give her?”

  “Crushed blackthorn berries.”

  Gavin grabbed her shoulder. “Blackthorn?”

  Jenny stood, and he stepped away. She missed his touch immediately. “I know the legends around the blackthorn tree, but the berries are used to protect against evil. Poison is evil, and people in ancient Scotland put it in their wine for centuries, to reduce fever. It’s safe. Doesn’t she look better?”

  “Aye, she does. My thanks, lass,” Gavin whispered.

  “Why are you thanking me? She’s my friend.”

  Gavin bristled, and stepped away. Rae grinned.

  “What were you guys talking about?”

  Rae’s grin drooped, and he clasped her hands in his. “I plan to stay, in this time. Denise says I can continue to work at the clinic. When she found out yer home had been destroyed, she stopped by on her way to work, to offer me a small apartment behind the clinic. She was also concerned that ye are now homeless.”

  Jenny nodded. “The clinic can use you. I’ll call Denise, once
I find a phone. I left mine in my apartment. I might… I might not survive this.”

  Gavin stepped closer. “I will try once more to capture my sire. Once Jenny is safe, I will return home to my other obligations.”

  Jenny smacked his shoulder. A stunned Gavin glared at her.

  “I am not your stinking obligation!”

  CHAPTER 25

  Jenny’s hand stung from slamming it against Gavin’s hard shoulder. Shaking her fingers and gnashing her teeth, she fled from the tent, heading up the hill to find something to eat. She kicked a lone pinecone from the trail in anger. Dust coated her boots, and her wrinkled gown was muddy around the hem. Dark splotches of Jaden-Tog’s blood had discolored the bodice, and she had lost her sgian dubh.

  “Great. Without my tiny dagger, I’m totally defenseless.”

  “Well, hi there.”

  Jenny slid to a stop in front of a vendor cart. Glancing through the open window, she waved to Wynda. “Hi, yourself.”

  “Where did you and Gavin disappear to, last night? Rae and I had a lovely time, though I don't think Denise likes me.”

  “Denise is envious. She’ll come around.” Jenny stepped closer, and did not answer the other part of Wynda’s question. The aroma of cooking meat pies made her stomach growl, and she settled a hand over her unruly tummy to muffle the sounds, and cover up the blood smear.

  “Dear Lord. Those smell good, and here I am, without a dime to my name.”

  Wynda blinked, grabbed a meat pie with her gloved hand, and slapped it on a paper plate. Leaning through the high window, she shoved the delicious Scottish pastry into Jenny’s hands. “On the house.”

  “Thanks.” Stunned by Wynda’s generosity, Jenny nibbled the round pastry, and the flaky crust melted in her mouth with a mixture of meat, onions, and spices.

  Wynda smiled down at her. “I wish my helper hadn't deserted me. I’ve been kind of busy today. Hey…isn't that the same dress you wore last night?”